It's a Girl!
by The Yankee Countess
Summary: Tom and Sybil and the baby are asked to participate in the village church's nativity play, playing the roles of the Holy Family. The experience is far from "holy". Funny Branson family fluff! MERRY CHRISTMAS!


_Just a fun fluff piece I wanted to do for Christmas, featuring the Branson's and their daughter. This is part of my "Katie Branson" universe (she appears in Father of the Bride and Jack-O-Lanterns) As someone who has participated in and directed nativity plays for my church, I have seen all sorts of "mishaps" with children and babies in these events. I thought it would be funny to bring that to life in this story, so here is my take on a funny and "memorable" Christmas with Tom, Sybil, their little girl, and all the rest of the Crawley family. MERRY CHRISTMAS!_

* * *

"**It's a Girl!"****  
**_**by The Yankee Countess**_

"No, no, no, I'm not doing it!"

Sybil groaned and folded her arms across her chest. "Really Tom, what is the matter? I don't understand why you're so upset and against the idea, especially since you've told me over and over that it has nothing to do with the fact that the church is Anglican and not Catholic—"

"I'm not putting on some bed sheet and wrapping a towel around my head!"

_Oh Lord, is this a glimpse of what our daughter will be like?_ Sybil prayed that more of her "cool English blood" would balance out their daughter's "wild Celtic fire" and keep her from throwing tantrums as Tom was having at the moment. The pout he was wearing on his face was utterly ridiculous…and yet so adorable as well.

"I would think you would find it a great honor to be asked by Mr. Travis to play the part of the Holy Family."

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Tom swore under his breath.

Sybil couldn't help but grin. "Exactly."

He gave her a look and began shaking his head again. "No, I refuse—I'm not going to dress up like a child in some nativity play, and let your father point a finger and mock me—"

"Papa will not mock you," Sybil groaned.

"HA!" Tom grumbled. "He'll demand to know that if I was so willing to play the part of St. Joseph, and let our child—our _'Catholic'_ child—play the part of the Messiah, in an _Anglican church_—he'll demand then to know why I fought so hard while you were recovering, for Katie to be christened Catholic."

"Your mother would be the same way if we had christened Katie Anglican, and then played the parts in a Catholic church," she tried to reason. "Both our parents are stubborn and set in their ways, to a fault—" Tom snorted at this. "But…" she continued, "Neither one of them will mock us or ridicule us for doing this—at least Papa won't because I won't let him…and as for your mother, well, that's up to you if you wish to tell her."

Tom groaned at the thought. "I can see my mam right now; 'my granddaughter got to play Jesus!'—it won't matter that it was done in an Anglican church, she'll never let me live it down that we did this, here, rather than back home—"

"Well we can't help that," Sybil muttered, trying very hard to keep her temper. When Tom got into a sulk, he could really, really sulk. Her mother said the same thing about her father—maybe it was a trait all men suffered from? She would have to ask Mary if that was true with Matthew as well.

It was time to change tactics. "Well…what about what _I_ want?"

He looked at her with a furrowed brow. "You're not serious…?"

She lifted her chin and tried to imitate her grandmother as best she could. "What if I am? Personally, I was very flattered when Mr. Travis asked us to play the parts in the nativity play! Some of my fondest memories as a child were playing in the Downton parish's nativity plays on Christmas Eve."

She grinned to herself as she noticed Tom's face soften a little at the mention of this. He always seemed to soften whenever she mentioned moments from her childhood. "Were you an angel?" he asked, smiling at the thought.

"Certainly not!" Sybil said with a glorious head shake. "Mary and Edith wanted to be angels…I wanted to be a Wise Man!"

Tom stared at her for a moment…and then burst out laughing. "Of course you did," he laughed, rising from where he sat and going over to her, wrapping his arms around her body and pulling her flush against him. "Ever the suffragette."

"Well I didn't think it was right that we had three wise _men_; surely there was a wise woman in their midst? And men are hardly, ever, wise—" he swatted her rump, but she only grinned. "It's true; don't the wisest of men listen and do whatever their wives tell them to do?"

"Whatever happened to equal rights?" he teased.

"You've had centuries of power; let the women have some control for a change."

He threw his head back and laughed. "I'm guessing that little Lady Sybil Crawley, despite her wishes, never played a wise man?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Sadly, no. They made me an angel, just like my sisters," she made a face at the memory. "Which is very amusing when I think about it; we were hardly the angelic bunch."

"So I suppose it wasn't a 'silent night' then?"

She swatted his chest for his bad joke, but he only laughed. She moved her arms around his neck and smiled up at him, standing on her toes to let her lips graze his chin, which was starting to show some stubble now, at the end of the day. "I do remember admiring the couple who played Mary and Joseph, though," she murmured, her eyes looking off into the distance as if playing the memory all over again. "Not only was a couple chosen who had recently had a newborn, but the couple always looked to be so deeply in love…and I remembered gazing at that vision and wondering if…if I would ever know a man and look at him like that…and if he would ever look at me like that…"

He looked down at her with some suspicion. "I thought Edith was the romantic?"

"She is," Sybil confirmed. "But she's also older than me…and older sisters do tend to have some influence over their younger ones."

Tom was a stubborn man, and could certainly drag his feet when he wanted to. But at the same time, he also knew a losing battle when he saw one…and it was clear from the way Sybil spoke…and the way she looked up at him, her eyes big and blue and full of love and sweet promise…that he had lost this argument.

"Very well," he grumbled, still trying to look the part of a grouch, despite Sybil's smile and the kiss she gave his cheek.

"You're a darling," she purred. He only shook his head. Why did he have a feeling he was going to regret this?

"Mr. Travis must be desperate," he muttered between her kisses. "Asking me, an Irish Catholic, to be in his nativity play—and with a girl to play Jesus."

Sybil only smiled and innocently played with the lapels of his jacket. "Well, he asked me to play the Virgin Mary?" she batted her eyes which earned a growl from her husband.

"Aye," he grinned then, his hands snaking down her body to grab her rump. "No one can accuse our family of being type-casted."

* * *

The costume was itchy. Tom swore it had moth balls. He kept groaning and scratching at his legs and sides, trying to stand comfortably, but it was difficult. It seemed that no matter how he shifted his body, he couldn't find a position where he wasn't wriggling or scratching or muttering about the discomfort of the clothes.

He was standing in the sacristy, a small room behind the altar in the back of the sanctuary, normally where the communion elements and altar candles were kept. During the reading of the Gospel of Luke, both he and Sybil, holding Katie, would enter the sanctuary and go and sit on a small wooden bench in front of the altar, while the village children playing the various parts of angels, shepherds, and wise men, would walk down the aisle to join them. They had rehearsed the scene earlier that day, and everything had gone without a hitch (Katie was pleasantly sleeping during the entire process). However, now, of course, she was fussy…and hungry. Sybil was sitting in a corner, nursing their daughter, which was somewhat difficult in her costume.

"Is she finished yet?" Tom whispered, trying to pay attention to the service in the sanctuary so he would know when they were supposed to enter.

"Not quite," Sybil quietly groaned. "She's very insistent tonight—I wonder where she got that from?" she gave him a pointed look.

Tom merely tried to look innocent. "It's not my fault you have mesmorizing breasts."

"Tom!" she gasped, although it did cause her to giggle. She looked down at Katie and sighed as she still continued to feed. "Serves them right if I walk out there nursing her."

"What?" he turned and looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

Sybil lifted her chin. "The biblical Mary was a mother just like any other woman; you don't think she nursed Jesus?"

"You really want to get into a theological debate now?" Just then his father-in-law's voice began to fill the sanctuary. Mr. Travis thought it would be proper if the Earl of Grantham read the gospel passage to the congregation, since his daughter was in the nativity play. "Our cue, love."

At last, Katie's hunger seemed to be sated, and Sybil quickly righted her costume. "Alright…here we go!"

Tom watched, dazzled again by her beauty and poise, as she led the way into the sanctuary, holding the lively and very much awake "baby Jesus" in her arms, quickly eliciting a collective "awwww!" from the crowd as she went to take her place on the bench, as Mr. Travis instructed. Tom followed, trying to look reverent to the situation, when in truth he was praying for it to end as soon as possible so he could get out of that infernal costume. He joined Sybil on the bench, and put his arm around her, while the other hand went to play with Katie's searching fingers.

As Robert continued reading, the village children began to descend down the church aisles, and more collective coos of adoration were murmured. Amongst the children was Charlie Parks, Ethel's son. Charlie and Ethel lived with Isobel Crawley now, and thanks to Mrs. Crawley's help, Charlie was enrolled at the school connected to the church. He was a very inquisitive boy, and Tom remembered how he wanted to look at Katie during the rehearsal earlier that day (even going so far as to ask if he could hold her). Charlie was playing the part of a shepherd, and he led his band of shepherds down the aisle, just behind the angels. As they got closer and closer to where Tom and Sybil sat, Charlie's eyes grew wider, because Katie was now wide awake, and Sybil was trying to keep the child from squirming and crying too much, which in truth, she looked ready to do at any moment.

Yes, Katie's face was scrunched up and she did not look happy at all. Sybil bit her lip, her elegant "virginal poise" breaking slightly, as she looked at her daughter, recognizing that after such a vigorous feeding, the poor girl was feeling a bit…gassy. So Sybil naturally did what any mother would do in that situation; she picked Katie up and gently placed her against her shoulder and began to softly pat the child's back, to help her burp.

Katie coughed. And then it happened.

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwww!" several of the angels screamed (hardly sounding heavenly) as "Jesus" spat up all over "Joseph's" face.

Robert stopped his reading and turned to see what was causing the commotion. A great number of the congregation gasped and covered their mouths at the side. Tom himself was sputtering in disgust, just as the children were pointing fingers and making faces.

Thankfully his mother-in-law was ready to help. Cora (who was sitting in the front pew) leapt to her feet and quickly rushed up to Tom and Sybil, the children parting like the Red Seas to let her pass, and quickly handed them her handkerchief. Matthew, who had been sitting just behind her, did the same, and Tom inwardly groaned, feeling his face burn beneath his daughter's spit-up, as he wiped the sick from his face.

Robert glanced at Mr. Travis, who was looking absolutely horrified at the not-so-holy reality of the Holy Family. However, the vicar recovered and nodded his head, encouraging Robert to continue with his reading. He coughed himself, cleared his throat, and attempted to bring everyone's attention back to story of Christ's birth in Bethlehem, rather than the burping child at his daughter's shoulder.

It was easier said than done. Now, all of the children who sat around Sybil and Tom were either disgusted and didn't want to sit up there anymore…or fascinated and wanted to get a closer look. Charlie Parks was one of these.

"Oh no…" Sybil groaned.

Tom had just cleaned away the last of the spit-up and looked at his wife with worried eyes. "Oh no, what?"

Sybil looked at him and knew that look right away. Oh no…

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew!" another child shrieked…as a great wet spot began to form on Sybil's costume. Katie had just wet herself, and right through her nappy.

Now snickers of laughter could be heard amongst members of the congregation. Poor Katie, entirely uncomfortable in her wet nappy, began to cry, and Sybil knew that no amount of cooing would calm her. So despite the situation they were in, and the parts they were supposed to play, Sybil stood up and holding the wailing child, took Katie back to the sacristy to change her.

Robert stood looking helpless, unsure what to do now after this most recent event. Mr. Travis looked like he was ready to faint. Tom simply sat there, his face a bright shade of red. Cora, Matthew, Mary and Edith and all of the servants were sitting in their pews, unsure how to respond…but soon found themselves laughing, when the Dowager Countess began to giggle.

Charlie Parks had followed Sybil and Katie back into the sacristy. Ethel realized this all too late, and stood up from her pew, unsure if she should further cause a scene by racing up to the altar and going after her son…but there was no need. Charlie came bursting out of the sacristy then, a big, shocked look on his face. He then stood there, right next to Tom and bellowed to the entire congregation, "JESUS IS A GIRL!"

The service ended there.

* * *

"I liked it," Cora said later that evening, as they were sitting down to dinner. "It was very realistic. I think I can better understand and relate to what the Holy Family had to go through that first Christmas."

Sybil and Tom and Robert all groaned, while the others around the table snickered with laughter.

"It certainly will be the most memorable nativity play that congregation has ever seen!" Violet declared.

"Oh cheer up, Tom," Matthew said with a smile as he noticed how his brother-in-law was sulking, still feeling embarrassed from everything that had happened (especially having his daughter spit-up in his face in front of all those people). "If it makes you feel any better, you can rest assured that Mr. Travis will never ask you to participate again."

"Yes, I think that's a safe bet," Sybil sighed, taking her husband's hand in her own and giving it a loving squeeze. "But thank you for trying," she whispered in his ear.

Despite his embarrassment, he turned and gave her a smile, and squeezed her hand back. "It will be a funny story to share with my family," he sighed. "And a funny story to hold over Katie's head when she's older."

Sybil gently swatted his arm, but giggled and kissed his cheek. The pudding was brought out then, and Tom and Sybil were given the largest portions (as a means to reward them for what they had to endure that night). Robert tried to point out that he had to endure some embarrassment too, but Cora told him to hush.

The next day on Christmas, everyone cooed over little Katie, who seemed to be in much better spirits now that her brief performance as the Son of God was finally over. After everyone was finished unwrapping their presents, Mary and Matthew stood up, smiling brightly and holding hands and looking both bashful and excited, and announced some very special news.

"We just wanted to share…that next Christmas, little Katie will have a cousin to play with."

"OH!" everyone exclaimed, and immediately congratulations were offered and shared and champagne was poured and everyone continued smiling and enjoying the merry, festive mood of the holiday.

Tom and Matthew were standing off to the side, enjoying a brandy while the women hovered around Mary, and Robert rocked Katie to sleep in his arms. "I'm happy for you," Tom said to his brother-in-law, meaning every word.

Matthew blushed but thanked him. "Yes, now I will be able to relate to all your stories of fatherhood!"

Tom grinned and nodded his head. Then an idea suddenly dawned on him. "Aye, that is true…and maybe…Mr. Travis will ask you to participate in the church's nativity play?"

Matthew practically spat his brandy at the suggestion. "W-w-w-what?" he coughed.

Tom only laughed and patted his friend and brother-in-law on the back. "It's rather fitting, actually…" he chuckled. "After all, your wife's name is Mary."

Matthew's face paled at the thought. Even though the baby would be far from the size of newborn, he could see the Downton vicar wanting to bring "honor" to the church by having the future Earl of Grantham's child in the play. "Oh God…" he groaned.

Tom nodded his head. "Make sure Molesley irons the costume beforehand; it's a very scratchy fabric."

**THE END!**


End file.
